


Sunflowers

by nanabound



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Depression, M/M, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanabound/pseuds/nanabound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Guy-Manuel and Thomas are forced to retire from music, Guy attempts to cultivate a garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I used gender neutral pronouns for the robots in this particular fanfic. It's something I wanted to try, and I think it works well for this particular piece.

“Are you seriously trying to get a garden to grow out here?” the silver robot asked their companion, watching them attempt to bury sunflower seeds in copious amounts of manure.

“It _is_ the countryside,” the golden one defended, continuing to heap on the manure. “This isn’t just intercity France anymore, Thomas. This is different.”

“I know that,” they countered, crossing their arms. “That’s not what I meant. I just think you’re going about this in the wrong way.”

As soon as they were satisfied with the pile of fertilizer that sat upon the row of seeds, Guy put down the bag. “You don’t know anything about gardening.”

Thomas chuckled. “Well, you don’t either.”

Despite Thomas’ good intentions, this caused Guy-Manuel to drop what they were doing and head back toward the house. Thomas sighed, following them back inside.

 

 

A couple of weeks went by, and the sunflowers were beginning to emerge from the ground. The golden robot could see the progress from the swinging bench attached to the front porch of their fairly new home, out in the small field they cultivated.

Despite Thomas’ disbelief in them, Guy knew the flowers were going to grow. Guy used the flowers to keep track of how long it had been since the two robots retired from making music, something that even they did not predict would happen. Guy was unsure of the main cause—possibly a mixture of social pressure from humans, the lack of fun in it, and Guy’s growing difficulty in continuing to create anything. Even though they once had the ability to make music, they knew that they could do it no longer, as if there was some sort of malfunction within them.

It was a quick and easy decision between the two robots. They would announce their retirement, immediately leave France, and move out to the countryside before anyone could realize what would happen. Unfortunately, they did not plan for the humans to be so quick in storming their apartment. Rather than making it an easy, one day escape, it took the robots about a couple months before the main hype could die down before they could even begin to leave. Although news of their sudden retreatment made it to television programs all around France, they were still able to slip by unnoticed by the general population.

It made Guy believe that humans were, in fact, quite easy to fool. Even to this day they still believe that the robots were human males wearing robot costumes. They supposed that this was just a way for the humans to believe that robots did not, in fact, roam among the living. Guy always thought that was hilarious.

“Your plants are beginning to grow,” Thomas said to Guy, breaking their train of thought. The silver robot was leaning against the doorframe of their house, keeping a steady eye on both their partner and the field of sprouting flowers.

Guy kept their focus on the field in front of them. “I told you I knew how to do this.”

Thomas walked over to the other robot, sitting beside them on the swinging bench. The silver robot paused for some time, trying to think about what to say next. “… I apologize about that comment I made before. I never mean anything like that maliciously, you know. I’m just poking fun.”

“I know.”

Thomas leaned back, trying to comprehend their companion’s short reply. They took a few seconds to try to put a sentence together without trying to sound insensitive. “Guy, do you need to talk about anything?”

“No,” they responded curtly, standing up. “I don’t need to talk about anything. I’m fine.”

“I just… Worry about you. You seemed happier when we start making music together—“

“ _I_ am perfectly happy,” Guy lied sharply, cutting them off.

“I thought making music was just becoming to be a burden on your systems, so we ultimately had to stop,” Thomas continued. “I just—“

The golden robot immediately stamped through the front door, slamming it behind them. Thomas sat in silence, looking down at the ground in frustration.

 

 

A month passed since Guy created the garden. The sunflowers were growing steadily, although they were beginning to wilt in the mid-afternoon sun.

It was difficult for Guy-Manuel to leave the bed that morning, so instead of trying to force themselves to do anything, they stayed in the same position they woke up in that morning.

Even while doing chores around the house, Thomas checked on their partner consistently, asking if they caught a virus of some kind at various intervals. Guy would always shake their head, saying, “No, I just need to be here by myself today.” Thomas would always nod, leave the room, but come back about a little while later without fail.

By the time nightfall came, Thomas slowly opened the door to their bedroom to check in on Guy again. “Do you still need to be by yourself?” they inquired quietly. “… Would it be okay if I joined you?”

Guy paused for some time, but finally, after mulling it over, they responded, “You can come here if you want.”

Before Guy could say more, they felt the embrace of their partner, their arms cradling them as they laid their head upon their shoulder. For a while, they cuddled in bed in silence, listening to the soft, muffled noises of the insects that sat outside the window of their bedroom. After a time, Thomas cleared their throat. “You’ve been in bed a lot lately, Guy.”

“There’s not much else for me to,” they mumbled back, feeling a small squeeze from their companion in response. “Don’t worry about me too much.”

“That is very difficult for me to do.” There was silence for a time. “… I know we haven’t been able to say much on this matter, but I know you miss making music.”

“… I do. I never wanted to stop.”

Thomas knew there was not much more that could be said that night, and they comfortably sat in silence until sleep mode hit them.

 

 

It had been about a month and a half. It was obvious by then that Guy-Manuel had not been taking time to take care of the flowers they so carefully planted. Occasionally, Thomas would question them about it, but they would immediately be brushed off in favor of some mundane topic or another.

The hints of sunset shone through the windows of their home, with Thomas sitting at the kitchen table with the daily newspaper they carefully read throughout the day and Guy leaning against the window, gazing out at the warm-colored sky.

They spoke very little on that particular day. Although Thomas would attempt a conversation, it would soon fall apart. Thomas wondered if they were doing something wrong, or if they had hurt their companion in some fashion, but that was something they could not come to a clear consensus to.

However, this silence was soon broken. “What is even my purpose, Thomas?”

Thomas looked up from their newspaper, turning toward Guy. “Huh?”

“I’m not sure what I’m really supposed to be doing anymore,” Guy continued. “All our lives we were supposed to make music, but then I was forced to stop.” Never once did they look toward Thomas, instead focusing as the sun slowly settled behind the hills. “… Do you miss it, Thomas?”

“I… Sometimes I think about it,” Thomas slowly answered, getting up from the table to stalk over to them. “… You are much more than your music, though.”

“We were _built_ for music,” Guy sighed. “That was our _purpose_ , that was what we were _created_ for…”

“But we evolved into individuals. We are between the idea of “robot” and “human,” you know.” Thomas stood beside their partner. The silver robot paused for some time, letting that sentence settle before beginning a new train of thought. “Do you remember when, many years ago, we tried to become more human?”

“I do,” the golden robot slowly responded, slightly turning their head toward Thomas.

“I remember thinking that all there was to my life was escaping my form as a robot, and that I could somehow transcend into this ideal image of a human,” they explained, holding their hands out and gesturing as they spoke. “I saw how humans could function, and I thought… I could _be_ that, I could integrate myself into their society, I could experience the things they did.”

Guy sat in silence, turning their attention back toward the window. Thomas knew it was difficult for them to hold their gaze lately, and continued.

“I insisted to you that we needed to go on this quest to become more human, and you thought that, in some ways, it was quite unnecessary. You were right at the time, but I didn’t realize…” Thomas then looked out the window as well, watching as the sky’s colors became more vivid. “… Then there was that time in the desert.”

“The desert…” Guy mumbled, the memory coming to their mind.

“I… You know I almost gave up, then.” Thomas looked back toward Guy, their voice becoming quieter as they spoke. “You picked me back up again, and you refused to pull that switch. You’re the reason why I’m still here.”

“You have every purpose in the world, Thomas… I couldn’t just…”

“I know your reasons now, but at the time, I thought you were just drawing out my existence. I thought life did not have meaning if I had to stay as a robot for the rest of my life. I thought that, if I somehow physically left my body, I would reemerge as a new being and begin anew.”

“… I don’t regret doing that.”

“Good, you shouldn’t, I’m glad you did it. … I suppose I mean that, just because you don’t feel like you have a purpose now, it doesn’t mean that you won’t change your mind later.”

Guy looked down. “It’s very hard to believe that at the moment.”

“You don’t need to believe it now. I think, eventually, you will come to realize the truth in those words. … Please just remember that I won’t let you give up, either.”

Guy buried their head into Thomas’ shoulder, and if they had the ability to produce tears, they would have wept.

 

 

It had been around two months. For once, Guy-Manuel was tending to the sunflowers, slowly pouring water under them in an attempt to give life back to them. Although they nervously worked around the flowers, it was still a sort of invigorating experience.

“I see you’re back in the garden,” Thomas commented, moving over to the diligent Guy. “… I know they aren’t in the best shape, but I still attempted to keep them alive for you.”

“I… Sort of noticed,” Guy muttered, standing up and dusting their pants off. “I was expecting them to be dead by now.”

“I know they are wilting a little,” Thomas said as they scratched the back of their neck. “I apologize, I was hoping I could keep them looking nicer, but… Organic things are difficult to care for, I realized.”

“I understand how to take care of these a little better now. … I went to a human bookstore the other day and read how to take care of these… Sunflowers.”

“Is that what they’re called?” Thomas inquired, tilting their head to the side. “I wasn’t exactly sure. I just assumed they were like any other plant.”

“I found out that they can take care of themselves pretty well, but still need help to be kept alive. I guess that’s why they wilted, but never quite died.” Guy ran their fingers along the petals of one of the rapidly growing flowers. “I suppose they have a strong will of their own.”

“Well.” Thomas stuffed their hands into their jean pockets, looking out at the field of flowers that Guy had cultivated. “… I didn’t really know that, I just sort of tried to throw water at them every once in a while. Sometimes I accidentally upset my circuitry, haha…” They walked closer to Guy, who was still gazing down at the sunflower. “Maybe I should’ve tried to take care of them better, but I figured it was a project you wanted to see until the end.”

“I… Really do appreciate that you tried. Thank you, Thomas.” Guy inched closer to Thomas, gently grasping their hand. “… They still have a long way to go, but I think they will get taller eventually.”

“I know they will.”

The two looked upon the sunflowers, watching as they moved swiftly with the air’s breeze. The flowers never looked more beautiful.

 


End file.
